


sandwiches, and tommy is forever missing tubbo

by Catatrophycdanno



Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Exile, Exiled TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), Food, TommyInnit Needs a Hug (Video Blogging RPF), i kinda like it now though, not as bad as it sounds or at least the other ones on that tag anyway, woop woop this has bene in drafts for a long time
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-09
Updated: 2021-02-09
Packaged: 2021-03-15 00:21:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,066
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29304900
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Catatrophycdanno/pseuds/Catatrophycdanno
Summary: tommy misses tubbo, like a lot, in exile, but that’s pretty obvious. ghostbur is trying his best.
Relationships: Toby Smith | Tubbo & TommyInnit, Wilbur Soot & TommyInnit
Comments: 2
Kudos: 27





	sandwiches, and tommy is forever missing tubbo

sunday morning, probably one of the saddest days he’s ever had out in the middle of nowhere. tommy didn’t even bother to get out of bed, if you could even call it that. the straw mattress did nothing for his already aching back and provided no protection against the bitter cold of winters in this foreign land.

ghostbur had left early that morning, long before the sun rose. he didn’t say why, just silently snuck out of their tiny dirt shack and left tommy in the dark alone. he had a small oil lamp that they shared together but only ever used it at night. it smelled horrible, like burnt chicken but not the tasty kind, just bitter skunky tar.

what time was it? they had no watch, no real way to tell aside from estimating the position of the sun which wasn’t a viable option considering: a. it was literally snowing outside, and b. the sun isn’t actually visible this time in january. he’d just have to wait patiently for wilbur’s arrival.

days like this he spent moping, just laying around the house and wallowing in self pity. he missed tubbo. well he always missed tubbo, but especially so today of all days because sundays are- were brunch days. they’d each bring their own foods and lay in the sun on a picnic sheet together, bring their own umbrellas or sometimes even sit right the light drizzle of (hopefully) clean l’manberg rain, catching the drops with their tongues. on snow days they’d do the same, maybe even get up to have a snowball fight or two.

god, tommy missed them all so much. he missed niki’s warmth and how she always had a knitted scarf on hand for the inevitable pea brainer who forgot theirs — that woman was magic. he missed quackity and his jokes, playful in a caring way and never leaving them without a smile on everyone’s faces. he even missed techno, although he would NEVER admit it, his pride was too mighty for that. 

he closed his eyes for a moment and let himself wander his memories: bright sunny days and delicious steaming buns straight from niki’s bakery, the cold wind beating on his back, him shivering in the wind and being scolded by a concerned tubbo, fluffy coat in one hand and a pair of kitty mittens in the other. he missed his smile, his worried glances and whispers, his gentle demeanor even as tommy blew up at him for the stupidest reasons.

he was crying, slick wet tears running down his reddened cheeks, whole body shaking from  
not only the cold of the shack but the feeling of missing someone and knowing you could never face them again, knowing your warmth will never come back, at least not in this lifetime. 

a knock came on their shabby wooden door. ghostbur’s nasally voice called out for tommy’s help in opening it, claiming his arms were too weak as he always did. tommy sighed, still sniffling and trying to hold it all in again like nothing happened. in the darkness he doubted wilbur would notice anyway.

they came in together, the tense atmosphere undeniably suffocating. 

“what’s this?”

tommy fingered a lumpy form wilbur rolled onto their makeshift table, an upright wooden log that took ages to heave back alone seeing as wilbur was just far too fragile for that. 

ghostbur smiled, “tomato! and i’ve got some bread here, too. stopped by techno and phil’s place, that’s why i took so long.”

tommy gritted his teeth at the mention of their names. he hated knowing that even now he still needed help from his elders. he was old enough to forage, surely. 

whatever, bread is bread.

ghostbur set the rest of his things down, a single carved iron blade he also likely got from the two.  
“wanna make a sandwich with me?”

~~

“this is so- oh god this is heavenly!”

tommy sighed around his stale bread and near rotten tomatoes, splayed out on the floor. out here you didn’t have the time or state of mind to practice table manners. ghostbur was smiling widely at him, although neither could see. “glad you like it!”

the raw beef they had was a couple days old but a quick roast by the mini fireplace of twigs and a rock gave it that extra kick of edibility.

“where’d you learn to make sandwiches like that, holy hell, the flavor is just explosions in my mouth. I could eat this for days!”

wilbur blushed, “basic stuff. i had to learn it when niki stopped making food for us. said we were too dependent on her.”

tommy laughed, pointing a stained finger at him. “truly a man, the worst of your kind, too. the kind that depends on women-“

wilbur fumed, smacking his hard away lightly. “hey! at least i’m not sexist!”

tommy pretended to fall backwards in shock, placing a dismayed hand on his chest. “now that’s- that’s too far, i love women! love em’. in fact, i would argue that i love women the most-“

the two went back and forth bickering for a while like the old days before they were each burdened by their own busy lives and their needs for adventure. tommy really did enjoy his brother’s company, no matter how frustrating it could be to have to drag him back to reality in his ghostly naivety. he was all he had after all.

but tommy didn’t want to think about that right now, or the fact their family had abandoned them all alone out here, or the way all his friends have since left him, or the strange green man who came to discipline or collect all their items every month, or the radio silence whenever he and tubbo would encounter each other in the woods by chance. those were things he’d been keeping in the back of his mind for weeks, and had no plans on retrieving. 

for now, he was content. maybe it was all an act, a cover up for every thing swirling inside his chest, whispering dangerous thoughts into his head, forcing him to address them soon or it’d get worse and worse and worse.

he shook them away still, taking a hefty bite out of his sandwich to flush them away. one day, just one more day, then he’d figure it all out. he had time. right?

**Author's Note:**

> yo yo yo criticism so hot n segsy


End file.
